


Hopeless

by celticheart72



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Card #1 [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Complete, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, drowning their sorrows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticheart72/pseuds/celticheart72
Summary: Merle drowns his sorrows in beer after he loses the woman he loves.For Bad Things Happen Bingo square Drowning Their Sorrows





	Hopeless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ivy475](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivy475/gifts).



> WARNINGS: alcohol abuse, fits of temper, referenced death of reader

Merle sat on the couch of the trailer he once shared with you, beer in hand, staring straight ahead. The place was a mess. Beer bottles and cans were strewn everywhere along with pizza boxes and fast food trash. It had been at least three days since he’d taken a shower, shaved, or slept in the bed.

You were gone and as long as he kept drinking, he was numb.

He started to lift his beer to his lips then realized the bottle was empty. Tossing it to the floor he stood up on unsteady feet and wondered why he felt lopsided.

Squinting his eyes, he stumbled and swayed as he tried to figure out what was wrong. One foot was bare and the other was wearing an untied boot. When he lifted his foot to take off the other boot he fell back onto the couch.

It took a few seconds for the anger to catch up to the confusion and the boot flew over the coffee table and into the pile of beer cans and other trash there.

Why did you have to leave him? It wasn’t fair. He had been cleaning up his act. Even had a steady job working at the local garage. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was steady work and he’d been sober and off the drugs.

Now he felt empty.

He needed another beer.

Standing up he braced his feet apart while he swayed a little bit and held his arms out while he slid one foot toward the kitchen. That seemed to work. When he opened the refrigerator, he had to squint again to stop the bottles inside from dancing around. It took a few minutes for him to get his hands on one. Little fuckers were slippery devils.

When he bent to pick up the beer he fell into the refrigerator.

For a brief second, he worried what you would think if you caught him like this. You’d certainly click your tongue at him while you shook your head and remind him that the alcohol wasn’t going to make life any easier. He was going to have to learn to live without you because nothing he did was ever going to bring you back.

You were gone. Your kids were staying with your mother because he couldn’t get a handle on his grief right now.  

If you were there, you’d tell him he was stronger than this and remind him how much you loved him.

Merle didn’t feel stronger. He felt hopeless and lost and all he wanted to do was drink until the pain was gone. So he sat on the kitchen floor, legs splayed out in front of himself, drinking beer after beer until he passed out. At least he was numb he thought to himself when he woke up briefly because his stomach was roiling. Once it was empty, he leaned his head back against the drawers behind him and drifted off again.

Only to wake and do it all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work kudos are appreciated. If you love it comments are wonderful. If you have constructive criticism or questions let's talk. If you leave blatantly rude or negative comments, know that no hate is allowed here and will be deleted. And if you read my work and are too shy to interact right now, know that's okay too.


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